


Road Trip - Shattered

by Sekiei



Series: Road Trip - Interludes [2]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-14
Updated: 2016-12-14
Packaged: 2018-09-08 14:13:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8848198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sekiei/pseuds/Sekiei
Summary: (N.B. *Spoiler heavy up to the end of chapter 10 (the mine dungeon in Cartanica, after the events in Altissia)* I really wouldn't recommend reading this unless you've played the game to that point.)Altissia had left them with more than physical wounds. And more than anything else, this insidious pain was what threatened their ability to go on.





	

A few points:

  * This story takes place after the Cartanica dungeon and before the party gets back on the train to Tenebrae. In the game, after a lot of tension between Gladiolus and Noctis, mostly due to Gladiolus being spitefully passive-aggressive, Ignis intervenes and basically tells them all to stop it. And then the game tells us that thanks to those few words everything is friendly and harmonious again. While I understand the need to simplify things for the game to work, my reaction was pretty much 'no way in hell it was that simple'. Hence the fic.
  * This is very self-indulgent on my part, but I hope still enjoyable.
  * Although not a direct continuation of a previous fic I posted ([Roadtrip - Nightside](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8781823)), I consider any work in this AO3 series to be happening within the same timeline. So if you fancy it, it makes sense to read part 1 first because it gives a fair bit of background about Gladiolus and Ignis story. Having said that, they are still pretty much standalone pieces. 
  * A good part of this is dark, angsty and confrontational among other things. You've been warned.
  * Anybody up for shameless porn next? I might need it after that. 
  * As always comments welcome and appreciated. :) 



 

 

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Gladiolus had been fuming after his outburst at Noctis on the train. Getting the words off his chest should have helped but it hadn’t been nearly enough. After everything that had happened, to Lunafreya, to Ignis, the sight of the young King wallowing in self-pity had become unbearable. After Regis’ death, he had tried to be understanding, to give Noctis time to get to grip with his new responsibilities and powers, but this was over. There was no more time for coddling. And Gladiolus had no more patience nor will for it.  
He had never doubted that when it became necessary Noctis would take on the mantle of the King and step up to the plate. He had put his life on the line for him all these years carried by that same belief. He was the Shield and Noctis was the King, his King. It was how things were, it was what ought to be. But what if Noctis couldn’t fulfil that destiny, where would that leave them then… What of his own role, should he - or rather could he - continue to volunteer his life for one who could fail so many?

The landscape had been running by, dry, empty, unforgiving and foreign. A landscape of an enemy land they’d rushed into, injured, weak and unprepared. Despite all that happened, they hadn’t stopped for second thoughts. But now they were there, stuck with a leader who barely managed to keep his head above the water. He knew they had not failed yet. And they would not give up, they would just keep forging on. But for the first time, he had wondered if it was worth it. Did Noctis even want the throne they were risking everything to put him on?

And then they had gotten to Cartanica and gone down into the mine. Noctis had told Ignis to come along and Gladiolus had stayed silent, because having him with them - as dangerous as it was - was preferable to leaving him unguarded and blind in enemy territory. It’d been difficult to keep him safe, and painful to see him repeatedly lose his footing, to watch him try to fight, heavy, clumsy, so different from the usual flutter of blades driven by nothing but grace and deadly intent. He’d been torn between pressing on to shield Noctis - a duty that was second nature to him - and hanging back, helping Prompto keep Ignis up. He’d chided Noctis for going too fast, even when he knew the prince was only carrying reconnaissance, trying to limit the amount of ground their injured party had to cover. Noctis’ face had closed further, and he had walked away, muttering under his breath. But he hadn’t challenged him. He’d even yielded to Gladiolus when he had pushed for confrontation again. Noct had affirmed he understood his responsibilities and was ready to shoulder them. Gladiolus’d wanted to believe him, but his doubts would not be so easily silenced. If he stilled for a second, they crawled and buzzed inside his skull like a swarm of dying insects stuck in resin made of boiling anger. It was relentless. Blood was pulsing at his temples forcing him to grit his teeth against the pain in his head. They’d pressed on. It’d all been worth it in the end when Ignis’ quick thinking had saved them from the Malboro.  
The problem was what had happened then. Ignis’ had called them all out on their behaviour, but his anger had been directed at Gladiolus most of all. The Strategist had stood by his King with an unwavering faith he couldn’t understand. Not after what had happened. Of all of them, Ignis should have been the most affected by the tide of events, the most vulnerable, and yet… He had taken upon himself to rebuke Gladiolus’ efforts to get Noctis to take responsibility for his fate. ‘When he’s ready…’, he’d said. A whole lot of good it had done them until now to wait for His Majesty to ‘be ready’. And that was without even mentioning that Ignis planned on accompanying them into the heart of the enemy capital. In his condition. Gladiolus couldn’t even start to list all the ways things were going to go wrong for them. From a perilous endeavour their little adventure had turned into a nightmarish farce. He would have laughed if it wasn’t so tragic.

They rode the elevator back to the station in silence. Their expedition had been a success but the mood was sour, more so than it had been in days and that was saying something. Their journey since Altissia hadn’t exactly been cheerful. The light had dimmed by the time they reached the surface. The train to Tenebrae wouldn’t be leaving until morning which meant another night of Noctis sulking and of long hours watching Ignis’ breathing from the other side of the room, knowing it was too slow and deliberate for him to be asleep. At least, the restaurant carriage had a bar and given the circumstances that was the best Gladiolus could hope for… But a few words stopped him from strolling off as the doors opened.

‘Gladio. We need to talk.’

Ignis’ voice was low, the tone dispassionate. The usual impassivity of his features was disturbed by the dark shades, making him look more guarded, almost wary. Yet, as much as he worried about him, Gladiolus was in no mood for conversation.

‘Later.’  
‘Now.’

There was a few seconds of silent stand off between them. Ignis was seemingly looking at him, but his gaze was off, staring just a few centimetres above his left shoulder. Gladiolus wanted to hit something.

‘Prompto, you and Noctis go get dinner. We’ll join you in a little while.’

Prompto shot him a concerned look but obeyed, dragging the prince away with a few whispered words. Ignis waited, his head slightly bowed, turned towards the retiring footsteps, listening.

‘Well?’ Gladiolus asked, his patience already running thin.  
‘We’re not alone, are we?’

The question doused his frustration in icy grief. The fact that Ignis had to ask… But his feelings served little purpose so he quenched them and looked around. A few rail workers were piling crates nearby, a couple of tourists were taking pictures of the mine chasm from the balustrades.

‘Not quite. We can walk down the platform, there’s no one there.’  
‘Lead the way.’

And once again, he felt the newly acquired weight of those few innocuous words hit him like a slap.

‘Sure,’ he replied anyway, taking his now usual place on Ignis’ left and offering his arm for him to hold.

The first few days after he’d been injured, Ignis had kept it together when talking to Noct, but had been almost shell-shocked when it’d come to moving around. Gladiolus had been shadowing his every step then, a hand to the small of his back, to support and to guide him. He had been careful, considerate. Focusing on Ignis had helped him overcome the maelstrom of emotions and pain in his mind. For a time.  
But less than a week had passed before Ignis’d asked for a cane and made clear that he would ask to hold onto one of them if he wanted guidance, but he refused to be lead around any longer. He would decide for himself when and who to follow and just how far. In a way, seeing that fiery independence survive the ordeal had been a blessing. Ignis was hurt but he wasn’t broken. Yet, silently and despite being aware of his own selfishness, Gladiolus had wished he could have been relied on a while longer.

Ignis’ hand closed around his elbow with a natural that hurt him. It had only been three weeks. This shouldn’t have been so easy for them, so rehearsed. Gladiolus dropped words then and there, on their way to the end of the platform, at first to guide, then just to fill the silence. Stairs, three steps. The rails are on our right, two and half meters away. It’s a pretty steep drop, don’t go close. Have they told you… there’re mountains all around us, most are bare sand and rock, but there’s snow in the distance. It’s glowing through the nightfall. He was babbling but it kept his mind off what was coming.

He stopped far enough down the platform that they were out of earshot but still within the safety of the lights and turned towards Ignis. He steeled himself, taking a deep breath, trying for a composure he already knew he wouldn’t be able to sustain. Ignis seemed content to wait for him to talk, a sure sign that the argument was unavoidable.

‘Look, if you’re going to run through your tirade from the mine again save your breath. I get it. His Highness can do no wrong and he needs to be coddled to greatness. I just hope you’re volunteering for the job because I won’t be bowing to his whims any longer. I’ll respect my King when he starts behaving like a king and he needed to know that. Also I think you coming to Gralea with us is a stupid idea and you won’t change my mind on that one either.’  
‘Anything else?’  
‘Depends on what you say next. I am in no mood for a lecture, not even from you.’  
‘Could have fooled me.’  
‘Bite me. Are we done?’  
‘Oh, I haven’t even started. I’ve listened to you, now kindly shut up and give me the same courtesy.’

As always, he’d been playing straight into Ignis’ hands, but he didn’t care. He stood by what he said.

‘Make it quick.’  
‘Right. First, and as much as it might surprise you, I don’t fundamentally disagree with what you said to Noct. While I believe there might have been a more tactful way to engage him, I also think your interference has overall had the intended effect.’  
‘So what’s the problem?’  
‘I’m not finished. You pushed it too far. Noctis might be in need to be roused and motivated, but feeding his self-doubts is unhelpful and dangerous. Thankfully for all of us, he is stronger than you’re currently giving him credit for and he didn’t let you drag him down. This time.’  
‘Again, if he’s such a darling, what’s the problem?’  
‘My problem is not with what you said as much as why you said it.’  
‘What do you mean “why”? Someone had to tell him to get his head out of his ass.’  
‘Charming imagery. And so I ask, what of your own head?’

Gladiolus felt himself pale, blood rushing towards his heart leaving him light-headed.

‘What was that?’  
‘You heard me. You can be many things, Gladiolus. Hot-headed, arrogant, reckless. But you’re not a coward. You wouldn’t kick someone who’s already down. And yet, that’s exactly what you’ve done. Twice.’  
‘Careful, Ignis.’  
‘Or what? You’re going to have a go at me too? I’m not Noctis, Gladiolus. I won’t take it lying down.’

Gladiolus felt his temper flare, his hands closing into fists. But Ignis was standing there, hands covering the pommel of his cane, unmoving, unseeing. Even like this, he exuded a preternatural calm Gladiolus had always been powerless against. Hurting Ignis - even with words - was unthinkable to him, sacrilegious.

‘I wouldn’t. You know, I wouldn’t.’  
‘Why?’  
‘What? Of course, I wouldn’t, Ignis. I mean you…’  
‘I, what? Why is it okay for you to vent your anger at Noctis, but not at me? You know I can take it. More so than he does. He respects you too much for his own good, even when you’re being spiteful and unreasonable.’  
’Is that what this is about? You’re feeling left out?’

Gladiolus knew the words were a mistake before he even said them, but he was too angry to stop himself. The chuckle he got in answer only enraged him further.

‘Sure. I’m dying of jealousy over here seeing you treat Noctis like dirt. You know I just love when you act like an ass.’  
‘Oh for fuck’s sake… Fine. I’m an ass. So why don’t you cut to the chase, get your lecture off your chest and we can get out of each other’s hair.’  
‘Just tell me… where is your anger coming from?’

That time, Gladiolus felt the threads of what was left of his control snap with each word. His vision blurred, his jaw tensed.

‘Why? What kind of question is that? Why wouldn’t I be angry? Who wouldn’t be? Lady Lunafreya’s dead. The Empire’s slain half of our gods, they have the Crystal. And we’re a fucking mess. We have no idea what we’re doing, we’re just wandering into Niflheim without as much as a plan. And then there’s you, standing there, pandering to Noctis as if nothing’s happened. As if nothing’s changed. All the while when you’re… you’re…’

Ignis didn’t move, but his face turned hard, closed.

‘Oh don’t let me stop you. What about me? Go ahead, if we’re letting it out, you might as well tell me.’  
‘I…’  
‘No, fuck you, you don’t get a pass on that one. What am I, Gladio? Damaged? Broken? A liability? Come on, have some guts or have you lost those back in Altissia too?’

Gladiolus’ hands closed on the lapel of Ignis’ jacket, dragging him forward. He stumbled but managed to stay upright. The silence lasted a few seconds, only interrupted by Gladiolus’ rough breathing as he tried to pull himself together with little success. Ignis’ was looking straight through him, waiting, but when he spoke his mouth twitched into a malevolent smirk.

‘What are you waiting for? Go ahead. Isn’t it going to make you feel better? I think we’ve established I make for an easy target, little risk, perfect for you.’

Gladiolus let him go as if he’d been burnt, taking a step back, smoothing his palms over his thighs to force his fists to unclench. He had to calm down before he did something he wouldn’t be able to take back. He took a couple of deep breaths before asking through gritted teeth:

‘What do you want from me?’  
‘I want you to take your own advice and grow up. Stop lashing out and remember where your duty lies.’  
‘Oh lashing out, am I? Well, forgive me for giving a damn. I won’t apologise for being angry. Someone has to while you’re standing there all meek and caring. Let me ask you then, where’s your anger? How can you be content with mollycoddling His little Majesty? What about the war? What about Lucis? Have they burnt away your will to fight along with your sight? Is that it?’  
’How dare you.’

The words were low and dangerous, yet perfectly audible despite the night wind. And regardless of the formulation, it wasn’t a question but a clear order for him to shut up. Ignis took back the step Gladiolus had conceded, carefully, steadily. He stopped a few centimetres away, probably able to feel his body heat from where he was standing. Then he took off his glasses and stared.

‘Look at me.’

How could a gaze so vacant and unfocused contain so much rage… Gladiolus didn’t know, but Ignis had no trouble pulling it off.

‘Don’t you dare look away,’ he said. ‘Not angry? Oh, trust me, I am angry. More than angry enough. But I am no fool. I know who has wronged me, who has attacked us, who was waiting for us at every step, every turn, plotting. I know who is responsible and who will pay for what happened. Unlike you, I remember who the enemy is. I don’t go around acting like a petulant child who cannot cope with the scolding he’s received and has to take it out on all who cross his path. I also remember who my friends are and who my King is. I remember my oath and I will uphold it, no matter what. Even if the Shield forgets his duty and forsake his King, I will stay by His side and I will take Him as far as I can. That’s why I’m here, that hasn’t changed. But what about you, Gladiolus? Why are you here? What good are you in this state? You think Noctis is weak, well let me enlighten you. You are no different. Your wallowing in self-pity is unhelpful and tiresome and you don’t even have the good grace to recognise what you’re doing to yourself, to Noct, to the rest of us. You’re an embarrassment to your King and to your title.’

Gladiolus reeled back, stunned. The animosity, the intent to hurt, in Ignis’ words was like nothing he’d witnessed before. He didn’t know what to say, how to react, but his anger did not abate. So he didn’t think, just hit back.

‘You’re such a self-righteous pompous ass. You always think you know everything, don’t you? Well, screw you. Noctis is entitled to listen to you if he likes, but I didn’t sign up for that shit. I don’t have to put up with any of this,’ he spat, before turning heels and walking away.

He kept his pace brisk, eyes staring right in front of him until he reached the stranded train that held the local facilities. The metal wall of the closest carriage gleamed under the harsh glare of the station floodlights, taunting him. He didn’t think, just welcomed the pain as he put his fist through it.  
The noise resonated in the night, booming and sinister. Birds took off from the nearby chasm in a flutter of panicked wings. A rail worker peered around the corner, took one look at him and made himself scarce. Gladiolus didn’t know exactly what he looked like, but he suspected no-one was going to try and mess with him. His hand had left a dent in the metal and he stared at it, letting guilt and shame wash over him. Fuck. What was happening to him…  
Blood rolled from his knuckles, his fingers screaming in protest when he flexed them. He hadn’t broken anything but the bruising and swelling were going to get ugly. He needed to get some ice. And a drink. Or several.

He made his way to the bar. With the prescience of one too used to the harshness of the world, the barman only glanced at him and handed over a fistful of ice wrapped in cloth. Gladiolus grunted his thanks, grateful that the man didn’t ask any questions, simply went back to serving his previous customers. Further conversation - even small talk - would have been hell at this point. Words resonated in his head, clear, mocking… ‘What good are you… wallowing in self-pity… an embarrassment…’ Was Ignis right? Had he been so absorbed in his own grief that he hadn’t noticed how he’d acted? Had he scolded Noctis only because he recognised his own transgressions in the young prince’s sorrow? Could he have failed so completely that he had turned against his King to not acknowledge his own shortcomings? The truth of the words hurt, closing like a vice around his heart, choking the breath in his chest. He clamped his injured fingers around the ice until they burnt. This was easier. Physical pain he could handle. It was familiar, almost pleasantly so. He let it fill the slowly stretching minutes.  
He didn’t know how long he stood there hiding behind the pain, ignoring the waves of volatile thoughts breaking against his weakening will, threatening to overwhelm him. He felt sick. Finally, a shot glass clanked on the counter in front of him. The barman filled it with golden liquid. Bourbon. Probably. Gladiolus didn’t particularly care. He just nodded his appreciation and handed over a generous handful of gil. But as the seething kiss of alcohol reached his throat, sudden realisation dawned on him. The thought had barely crossed his mind that cold sweat trickled down his back in dread. He pushed his chair back and rushed outside, swearing under his breath. Consumed by anger and hurt pride, he hadn’t stopped to consider what he had done. He had stormed off and left Ignis. Alone. Blind. In an unfamiliar place. Unable to defend himself. He ran until the darkness forced him to slow down. The night had fully fallen and the glow of the floodlights did not reach far.  
The air was thick, deserted and dangerous. He could hear the clicking of insectoid daemons in the distance. They wouldn’t come close to the station, they wouldn’t, he thought, but his feet started running again. He blinked several times trying to force his eyes to get used to the low light. Maybe Ignis had found his way back on his own. Maybe… but as he came closer he saw him. Squatting down like a hunter surveying tracks, yet staring unseeing into the night, Ignis had his hands splayed on the ground in front of him, his fingers tracing the grooves between the paving slabs, trying to orient himself. His whole body froze as if touched by the Glacian when he heard Gladiolus’ footfall. The cane rolled on the ground with a clank. Daggers appeared out of thin air, fists clenched around the hilts. Ignis held them defensively in front of his chest, knuckles white, barely breathing. Gladiolus stopped dead in his tracks. There was an overwrought quality to the pose that was far from Ignis’ usually collected demeanour. His hands were trembling under the effort he made to keep still. Gladiolus hadn’t thought to call out as he approached, Ignis usually recognising his step in the busiest crowd. But he hadn’t expected this. Beneath the tense muscles, the unforgiving stance, the apparent readiness, boiled a barely contained swirl of fear and panic. Ignis was holding onto his control with little but iron will and pretence. And those threads were stretching dangerously thin…

‘Iggy. It’s me.’

For a moment, nothing happened. The wind was carrying an aftertaste of snow and blew goosebumps on Gladiolus’ skin. He didn’t move. Then, he heard Ignis swallow and get to his feet, daggers vanishing. His arm stretched in front of him and Gladiolus rushed forward, to be there, to meet him, to not let those fingers close on empty air. The palm spread over his chest, leaning into him, seeking confirmation, recognition. It stilled, and fingertips dug into the muscles, grasping at the fabric of his vest. When Ignis spoke his voice was low and unsteady.

‘You’re an asshole.’

Gladiolus covered the hand on his chest with his own, cautiously, but he didn’t try to relax its grip.

‘I know. I am. I’m sorry.’  
‘I hate you so much.’

The words would have seemed childish, if they hadn’t been said through gritted teeth and accompanied by a steady shove. As such, they sounded like a threat a lesser man than Gladiolus would have run from. It still hurt, but he knew better.

‘No, you don’t.’

Ignis let out a sound that was somewhere between a chuckle and a strangled sob.

‘I did. For a while there, I really did.’  
‘I deserved that. I’m sorry.’  
‘You said that already.’  
‘I mean it.’  
‘When you pulled me earlier, when we were arguing, I lost my bearings. I had no idea where was what. And I couldn’t hear anything with that damn wind. It didn’t matter because I knew you’d come back. You always do the right thing in the end. You can take your sweet time of it, but you do the right thing. I know that. So I waited. But you didn’t come back. And I heard the daemons, and I thought maybe this was it, maybe this time I screwed up and pushed you too far.’  
‘I was pretty damn angry. But I still shouldn’t have left.’  
‘I would have found my way back. I was working it out.’  
‘Of course, you would have. But you shouldn’t have to. You should never have to go through this alone. I told you I wasn’t going anywhere so many times, and then I ran off. Like a fucking idiot.’

Ignis’ hand relaxed enough that Gladiolus could take hold of it, carefully squeezing the fingers between his own. Yet, he kept cradling it against him. It felt right, safe. He had never seen Ignis so rattled, so vulnerable. And it was his fault. Guilt brought the taste of bile to his throat.

‘I will give you a proper apology but first, let me…’

He slowly turned the both of them a quarter circle to the left.

‘There. We’re lined up with the platform. The facilities are behind me about seventy meters to the right. The tracks are to your left, only a couple of steps away. There’s a fence about ten meters behind you, that’s the end of the platform. Immediately to your right there’s a waist-high balustrade that oversees the chasm of the mine. It’s four, five steps away. Better?’

Ignis let out a breath too uneven to be a sigh. He nodded.

‘Where’s the mountain with the snow?’  
‘You were listening to that, were you?’  
‘Of course, I was.’  
‘It’s on your right, a bit behind you, about there,’ Gladiolus said, touching Ignis’ arm with the palm of his free hand to show him what he meant. ‘I think it’s the direction we’ll be heading in tomorrow.’  
‘Can you still see it? The snow, I mean.’  
‘Yeah. It’s faint but it really reflects the light. I don’t think it’d ever completely vanished from view, unless there was a heavy fog or the like.’

Ignis hummed softly, before taking a step closer to lessen the strain on his still outstretched arm. It was difficult to make out his expression, between the barely existent light and the glasses, but he felt calmer. His voice was much closer to his usual calm and articulated tone when he spoke.

‘I take it you’re not angry anymore.’  
‘I don’t know, I just ran, none of what I’m feeling makes any sense. But I know you played me like a fiddle. You wanted me to lose my temper, didn’t you?’  
‘You were so wound up. Would you have listened otherwise?’  
‘Probably not,’ Gladiolus admitted before letting out a breath he hadn’t known he was holding. ‘Fine, then. You got me. Talk.’  
‘Now?’  
‘Unless you’d rather not… but I thought it might be better for me to hear what you have to say before anything else happens.’  
‘All right. Then answer me this time. Where do you think your anger coming from?’

Gladiolus frowned, but he had no more rage to cloud his mind, just sadness and incomprehension.

‘How can you even ask that? When Luna is dead, when Noctis nearly died and you got hurt, and this whole little excursion has turned into such a fucking mess. All this happened, all of it, and I was powerless to stop it. To stop any of it.’  
‘Here it is.’  
‘What is?’  
‘You always do that, Gladio. You always take responsibility for everything, even things that are out of your control. You hang onto that guilt, and it grows and eats away at you until you’re full of anger and you don’t know what to do with it.’  
‘I don’t…’  
‘You do. When King Regis died, you didn’t allow yourself to grieve, not for the King, not for your father. You felt guilty because you had some family left, as if that should have invalidated the pain you felt. You focused on Noctis, on me - don’t think I didn’t see what you were doing. But I went along with it, because in all honesty, it helped and at the time I thought that was what you needed, that was how you could get over how much you were hurting. I naively thought it was the way you coped, that this was just your way of dealing with hardship. But then Altissia happened, and it was so much worse…’

Gladiolus rubbed his face, swallowing a curse when his injured fingers protested against the rough treatment.

‘I should have done something.’  
‘You followed the orders given by your King. You did your duty. So many people owe their life to the work you did that day, what else could you want?’  
‘I know. I know we went with the plan. But then I see Noctis crying over Luna, I see you, I see you all the time, even when I close my eyes and it’s so fucking unfair. I should have done more, I should have been there. I’m sorry, Iggy, I should have…’  
‘No.’

The word clacked like a whip between them, stopping the words tumbling from his mouth. Ignis’ lips were set in a hard line, and he used their joint hands to pull Gladiolus closer, reducing the space between them to a hand-width. He stared up at him with an intensity that erased the lack of focus in his gaze.

‘No, you don’t get to do this. What happened to me is not on you, it’s not on Noctis, it’s not on any of us. It’s on Niflheim and its Chancellor. I don’t want an apology, I want a promise. I want you to tell me that we’re going to take them down, that we’ll get the Crystal back and that all of this was worth it.’

Ignis paused for a moment, but Gladiolus waited. His jaw was clenched, his features set in anguish. He wasn’t done.

‘Do you understand me, Gladio? I need you, and Noctis, and Prompto to do this with me. If we succeed, if we get Noctis on the throne, if we get Lucis back, then all of this was worth it. All of it. Including them taking my sight. If we do this, then I will be able to make sense of everything that’s happened, I’ll make my peace with it. But until then… Until then, I need us to keep fighting.’

Gladiolus had always welcomed the weight of Ignis’ trust, so hard earned, so rarely given. But this was something else. This was weakness and raw emotions laid bare in a way he had never been privy to. This was a glimpse of how hard it had been for Ignis to maintain his current facade, to not crumble under grief and fear. For the first time since Altissia, Gladiolus understood exactly how much damage Ignis had sustained, how hard he was fighting to stay composed and useful to them. Familiar anger rose in his throat but he forced himself to swallow it back down. It wasn’t what either of them needed right now, there would come a time for anger later. Anger and a pain that wouldn’t be their own.  
Words didn’t seem enough, so he brought Ignis hand to his lips, kissed his palm.

‘Okay. Okay, I can do that.’  
‘Thank you.’

Gladiolus hesitated. But this was about honesty as much as it was about mending, and he couldn’t hide the truth.

‘Iggy. Would you be mad if I said I still don’t think you coming to Gralea with us is a good idea?’

Ignis let out a sigh. He sounded exhausted. But he just shook his head.

‘I’m not mad. I understand. But it’s not your decision to make.’

His free hand found Gladiolus’ shoulder, using it for support as he hanged his head down for a few seconds trying to sort out his thoughts. When he spoke, there was a decisive edge to his tone. Gladiolus wasn’t the only one who could feel the need for unconditional honesty.

‘Look, I get this is hard for you. They’ve moulded you, trained you from such a young age to be Noctis’ Shield, it’s all you know, it’s the essence of who you are. You can’t help but value your worth by the protection you can offer, that’s what respect and loyalty mean to you. That’s why guilt eats at you if any harm comes to your own.’  
‘Are you sure you should be the one giving me a lecture on excessive altruism?’ Gladiolus said, trying for a light tone but failing miserably, the words coming out darker than he had intended.  
‘That’s besides the point. What I mean is… this connection we have hasn’t interfered with our duty until now because we both knew, regardless of how we felt, that looking after Noctis was our first concern. But since Altissia, you’ve tried to protect us both, he and I, all the while knowing you can’t possibly manage it. And it’s killing you. I know the way things are now I’m an hindrance in a fight. I meant what I said. If it becomes necessary I will bow out. But as long as I can serve my King, as long as there’s something I can do for Lucis, I won’t be left behind. This is my choice to make.’  
‘All right. I might not agree but I get it,’ Gladiolus conceded, because deep down and as much as he hated to admit it, he did.  
‘I need you to know I understand the risks that come with my decision to stay. I’m not expecting you to shoulder any of it. As far as you’re concerned, my infirmity changes nothing. If it comes to Noctis’ safety or my own, there is no choice, no hesitation. For better or for worse, we are who we’ve been made to be. And you are the King’s Shield. Swear to me you won’t forget that.’

For the first time in weeks, Gladiolus got a glimpse of how lost he had been, how messed up and disoriented. Because Ignis was right, they both knew what truly mattered. This was so much bigger than either of them. In the grand scheme of this war, their lives were not their own and had never been.

‘I know. I’m sorry. I guess Altissia did mess me up after all.’  
‘Tell me.’  
‘I, Gladiolus Amicitia, am the King’s Shield and I will lay my life down for my King first and foremost.’

Ignis laid his hand flat over Gladiolus’ heart.

‘For Noctis,’ he said.  
‘For Noctis,’ Gladiolus repeated, covering his hand with his own.

It was as if a fog had lifted, a deadly mist of rage and grief that had threatened to suffocate them and had nearly made him forget a duty that was so uncomplicated and righteous.

‘Thank you for setting me right.’  
‘Just doing my job,’ Ignis replied dryly.

Gladiolus laughed.

‘And I’m just admiring your dedication.’  
‘We should go back, Prompto likes to worry.’  
‘He can worry a bit longer. Iggy, I… Can I?’

Ignis didn’t say anything. He only gave him a small private smile and erased the one step that still separated them. Gladiolus’ arms closed around him. There was some snickering at the sighs they both let out as tension drained from their overworked muscles.

‘Pretty pathetic, aren’t we?’ Ignis said softly against Gladiolus’ collarbone.  
‘Hey, at least we’re pathetic together. That’s something.’

It would have been too much to hope that Ignis wouldn’t notice the unevenness of the hold Gladiolus had on him.

‘What did you do to your hand?’  
‘I punched a train.’

A few seconds of still silence stretched between them before Ignis lost it and started shaking with laughter in his arms, clear and carefree in a way Gladiolus hadn’t heard in a long time. Damn, how he loved that sound… Ignis dropped his forehead on his shoulder in mock despair, but he could feel the smile against his skin.

‘A train. Of course, you did.’

Gladiolus couldn’t stop himself from pointing out, good humour evident in his voice:

‘It was kind of your fault. Riling me up like that.’  
‘I think I heard it after you left. I didn’t know what it was. I thought the Empire was attacking, scared the hell out of me.’  
‘I’m sorry.’  
‘So you’ve been saying.’  
‘No, I mean… I promised you an apology and I want to give you one. I’m sorry about so many things. I should have handled Altissia better so you didn’t have to take all this on. The Gods know you didn’t need that on top of everything else. I should have listened. And I shouldn’t have run off. That was unforgivable and I can’t tell you how sorry I am. I just…’  
‘Okay, that’s enough. Apology accepted.’  
‘You could have let me finish.’  
‘I could have… but then I wouldn’t be doing this.’

Ignis’ hands were on Gladiolus’ face, holding him steady, pulling him down. And then, there were lips on his own that parted almost immediately, drawing him in, demanding. It was easy to lose himself in the kiss to forget about all the hurt and the mistakes that had to have happened to get to that one shared moment. It didn’t last nearly long enough. Ignis pushed him back with an unexpected scowl.

‘Whisky? Really?’  
‘I wasn’t thinking straight.’  
‘Tell me something I don’t know.’  
‘I’m…’  
‘I swear by the Six if you say you’re sorry one more time, I will hit you.’

Gladiolus had enough shared history with Ignis to know this was no idle threat. So he went back to kissing him instead. This time, he met no resistance.

It took a while for them to start walking back towards the restaurant, but when they did it was at a gentle peaceful stroll. They had not far to go and Gladiolus could see the lights getting closer. Time was running out.

‘Tell me something.’

Ignis hummed softly.

‘Is there anything you need?’  
‘Where is this coming from?’  
‘You always know. You never have to ask, you just know what to do about me, about Noct, even about whatever nonsense Prompto gets up to. And we’ve taken it all for granted and never asked what we can do for you. I can only guess how hard all this is on you. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t think I could handle it half as well as you do, but still. We’d all want to make things easier for you, if we can.’  
‘That’s not necessary.’  
‘Even so, if there’s anything…’

Ignis sighed, rubbing at his eyes from under the glasses.

‘Tell me.’  
‘Fine. Since you must know, if we had that luxury, I’d want some time alone. Safe. Undisturbed. To think.’

Gladiolus nodded, unsurprised. He knew better than to take the request personally. For as long as he had known him, Ignis, like all complex and brilliant minds, had thrived on periods of solitary contemplation. And come to think of it, their prolonged journey had left him with little opportunity to fulfil that need.

‘We’re safe enough here. Take the room for tonight, we’ll get another one. It’s not like we can’t afford it.’  
‘Don’t be ridiculous. There’s no need.’  
‘If today has proven anything, it’s how wrong things will go if you stop kicking us back into shape. Do me a favour, look after yourself.’

Ignis passed a hand through his hair, hesitating for a few seconds, before giving a small shrug.

‘Whatever you say. I’m too tired to argue with you.’  
‘I think we’ve argued enough for today.’  
‘Please, make it enough for a month.’  
‘I’ll do my best. Dinner?’  
’Not now. I’ll get something later.’  
‘Okay.’

Gladiolus left Ignis in the room they had booked earlier. He waited until he’d heard the lock turn in the door before heading to the restaurant. Prompto and Noctis were sitting in a booth, munching on cold fries and morosely tapping on their phones.

‘Need another player?’  
‘Hey, big guy!’ Prompto answered, beaming at the sight of him. ‘We were getting worried.’

Noctis didn’t say anything, but shuffled back on his seat to make room for him. It was invitation enough. They were starting their fifth game of King’s Knights when Gladiolus decided he had stalled long enough.

‘Noct.’

The prince shot him a questioning look, his expression turning unmistakably guarded.

‘I just wanted to say, I meant what I told you on the train and in the mine about your responsibilities, but it was stupid of me to imply you could just “get over” what you’ve been feeling. Nothing is that simple.’

Noctis’ eyes widened in surprise.

‘That’s not what I expected you to say,’ he admitted.  
‘I’m sorry if I pushed too hard. I just needed you to know that.’  
‘Honestly, I think I needed to hear what you said. I was stuck. I kept on thinking about Luna, and…’

His voice broke on the name and he let out an angry ‘tsk’ at his own weakness. Gladiolus pretended not to notice.

‘I might agree to give you time but it’s still in short supply, so don’t even think about slacking off. I’m going to stay on your case.’  
‘Fine. Asshole.’  
‘You’re welcome. Brat.’  
‘Damn,’ Noctis whispered as if he’d been struck by a sudden revelation. ‘Ignis totally tore you a new one, didn’t he?’  
‘Language… Your Majesty,’ Gladiolus added as an afterthought with a smirk and a half-hearted curtsy that was made all the more ridiculous by his size and the fact he was sitting down. ‘But I suppose that’s a fairly apt description of what happened.’  
‘Ignis is scary when he’s mad,’ Prompto piped in, a shade paler than usual.

There was a concert of nods and murmured acquiescence around the table. That was one thing they could all agree on.

‘The both of you should go to bed, our train leaves early.’  
‘What about you?’  
‘I’ll go in a little while, I haven’t had dinner yet.’  
‘Iggy’s already sleeping?’  
‘Probably. Let’s just give him some space tonight. I got us another room.’

He didn’t miss the concerned look Prompto and Noctis exchanged.

‘Is he okay?’ the prince asked.

Gladiolus hesitated. He didn’t want to lie.

‘He will be,’ he finally said. ‘We’re all going to be. Give it time.’

 

After Noctis and Prompto departed, Gladiolus grabbed his book and bought a wrapped sandwich at the restaurant counter. Despite the physical toll of the day’s events, he knew sleep would elude him. Besides, he’d promised Ignis. ‘Safe and undisturbed’. He had to make sure that was the case or the whole exercise would be moot. After some hesitation, he decided to settle down at one end of the sleeping carriage. Sitting on the floor with his back to the metal wall wasn’t particularly comfortable, but it provided him with a good view of the whole corridor and was far enough from Ignis’ door that he didn’t feel he was intruding. Noctis’ door was nearest to the corner and anyone wanting to get close to it would have to walk over him. It was as good an arrangement as it was going to get.  
He read for a while before drifting into a state of minimal awareness, enough to notice anything amiss, but difficult to qualify as being awake. Time slithered away from him. All he could hear was the wind howling outside, swaying the old metal joints of the stranded train in a mournful song.  
Dawn was laying a ghostly - barely perceptible - mantle on the mountains when a door opened and called him back to his station. Ignis got out of the room, his cane in front of him and a guiding hand on the wall. He walked down the corridor and through the open door of the restaurant carriage. Gladiolus watched as he exchanged a few quiet words with the morning busboy. He couldn’t hear what they were saying, but it was evident enough when the young man brought coffee and a plate to the table Ignis had sat down at.

Gladiolus didn’t move. He leant back against the wall and closed his eyes. This was still Ignis’ private time and he wouldn’t disturb it. But only a couple of minutes passed before the sound of knuckles rapping on wood made him look up. Ignis was looking more or less towards him, and tilted his head in invitation. That was a summon he’d never declined and this was not the day he would start. Slowly with a grimace at the tense muscles in his neck and back, he got up and unfolded his frame, barely fitting under the low ceiling of the train.  
He took a seat in the booth across Ignis who still looked half asleep, his hair in disarray, his glasses forgotten on the table. Gladiolus hadn’t seen him so unguarded since before Altissia. Ignis’d been protecting his injured eyes by wearing dark shades at all times, still hoping some of his vision would come back. But Gladiolus suspected there had been more to it than that, a grim self-consciousness, a desire to hide from everyone’s stare. Maybe it was the early hour, or maybe it was thanks to their heart to heart of the previous evening, but seeing Ignis without his glasses felt strangely intimate, yet bittersweet in ways Gladiolus didn’t want to examine too closely.

‘You scared the waiter. He had to go back to the kitchen and came to tell me there was a large and fearsome man sitting in the other carriage. Poor boy was worried I might come to harm.’  
‘What did you tell him?’  
‘That you’re not nearly as scary as you look.’  
‘Hey, watch it. That’s my reputation you’re squandering.’  
‘I don’t think he believed me anyway.’

Gladiolus smiled before stealing the coffee cup from Ignis’ hands and taking a sip. He made a face, eyebrows furrowed and mouth downturned. How could he enjoy this unsweetened… Ignis was definitely amused.

‘I can hear you frowning.’  
‘This is worse than Ebony.’  
‘It’s an acquired taste. Have you been sitting there all night?’  
‘Hmm. Had to keep an eye on all of you. And I couldn’t sleep anyway, had some thinking of my own to do.’  
‘How did that go?’  
‘It’s a work in progress. What about you? Doing better?’

Ignis seemed to ponder this for a moment, before shrugging.

‘Marginally. It’s a work in progress.’  
‘Maybe you should meet the guy who keeps me on the straight and narrow. He doesn’t pull any punches.’  
‘He probably knows you can take it.’  
‘Hm, still hard to sometimes. But I guess he always knows when I need a wake-up call.’  
‘Sounds like a pretty smart guy.’  
‘Oh, he is. Annoyingly so, sometimes.’

The waiter came back in the room with a fresh pot of coffee he set on the table before retreating to the kitchen hurriedly, avoiding Gladiolus’ eyes the whole time. It was quite entertaining.

‘Yeah, he didn’t believe you.’  
‘Stop enjoying it.’  
‘I don’t think I will. This is pretty fun.’

He got an eye-roll in answer, the movement so familiar it made Gladiolus smile. Some things hadn’t changed. He watched as Ignis poured himself a new cup of coffee from the pot. His hands were steady but the movements lacked natural. They were slow, calculated. It had been difficult to start with to stay out of mundane tasks like this, to not intervene and offer help that hadn’t been asked for. Ignis’ discomfort was still easily perceptible, but he was getting better, refusing to rely on any of them unless absolutely necessary, stubborn as always.  
He was quiet, warming his hands on the porcelain, his gaze lowered as if staring into the swirling liquid. If Gladiolus hadn’t known better, he wouldn’t have been able to tell anything was different. In that moment, he looked like the same Ignis he had breakfast with so many Sunday mornings in Insomnia. He could imagine calling his name and Ignis looking up, those icy pupils questioningly boring into his. But he shoved the thought away from his mind. This was dangerous, it was unhelpful wishful thinking and it wouldn’t do them any good. He was painfully aware that Ignis wasn’t the only one who had to accept the hand fate had dealt them.  
Instead, Gladiolus reached across the table, cupping Ignis' jaw in his hand to raise his head, to see those eyes, still so striking but aimless. His thumb passed over his lips, down to the bite of faint stubble on his chin. So little had changed. And so much. Ignis didn’t say anything, just leant into the touch. He froze a second later when fingertips traced the ragged edges of the scar on his temple. Gladiolus stilled too.

‘Does it hurt?’

Ignis gave a minute shake of his head but didn’t pull away.

‘Not anymore. How bad is it?’  
‘It’s not,’ Gladiolus answered honestly. ‘If you ask me, you graduated from hauntingly beautiful to ruggedly handsome. It adds to your presence.’

He hadn’t been asked to stop, so he let his fingers follow the scar lines. The small one on the bridge of the nose, the star points over the brow. Ignis had closed his eyes. He was still tense but at least he looked like he was breathing again.

‘And to answer the question you didn’t ask, yes, I’d still fuck you in a heartbeat.’

Ignis let out a chuckle at the words, followed almost immediately by a disappointed frown.

‘A heartbeat, eh? And here I was hoping you could last a tad longer.’  
‘Idiot,’ Gladiolus replied, but the fondness in his voice made the insult endearing.

The banter felt like a mouthful of water on a parched throat. Teasing, flirting, had been a constant aspect of their relationship for so long and he’d missed the absence of it more than he knew. Getting it back felt like victory. Despite a perfervid try, Altissia hadn’t stolen this from them too.

‘Did you speak to Noctis?’  
‘Yeah. Yeah, I did.’  
‘And?’  
‘He said you’re scary. Well, actually Prompto said that, Noctis just agreed.’  
‘And you…’  
‘I agreed too. Obviously. You’re terrifying.’  
‘At least, you three still know what’s good for you. I suppose that’s something.’

They fell silent for a little while but their amusement persisted, almost palpable across the table.

‘I did speak to him though,’ Gladiolus finally said. ‘I apologised for pushing him too hard. I think he understood.’  
‘He’s smart. When he wants to be.’  
‘Ain’t that the truth…’

Ignis was peering in his coffee again, a quiet habit Gladiolus had always known him to have. Losing his sight didn’t seem to have disturbed it. Silence stretched again. It wasn’t exactly uncomfortable, but the air was heavier, the atmosphere more contemplative. Gladiolus felt the mood change and he knew he had to ask:

‘Do you want me to go?’

Ignis looked up at the question and for an impossible instant their gazes met. Gladiolus felt his heart skip a beat and unexpected pain flare in his chest. He tried to hold onto the moment, but it was already over and icy eyes were staring through him into implausible distance.

‘No, I don’t. But you probably should go get some sleep.’  
‘I’m fine. I slept sitting up.’  
‘Stay then.’  
‘Okay.’

Ignis shuffled up alongside the length of his seat, legs crossed, back to the wall.

‘Since you’re here, read me something.’

Gladiolus glanced at the leather binding of his book with a grimace.

‘You might want to reconsider that request.’  
‘Do I? In case you haven’t noticed, my options are pretty limited.’  
‘That’s not what I meant. To borrow words you’ve used before, we’re stuck with one of my “godawful romance novels”.’

Ignis sniggered, before waving the excuse off.

‘Whatever. I can’t exactly be picky. Just read.’  
‘Okay. Please remember, you brought this on yourself.’

Dawn turned into daylight, slowly, peacefully. Gladiolus read. Ignis listened, immobile, eyes closed. He would have appeared asleep if not for the amused smile that graced his lips every time Gladiolus declaimed a cheesy line with excessive dramatic flair. It was at least as bad as he’d expected, but it mattered little. This was as good as things could get given the circumstances, an untouched sanctuary within the bloodshed, an illusive eye in the storm.

In the dramatic backdrop of the war, those few stolen moments meant nothing. And yet, the fate of an Empire and the legend of a King hanged from the bonds that were thus mended. It was a united party that boarded the train to Tenebrae a few hours later, a king and its retinue victorious from an inner battle that had threatened to upend the destiny of a world.


End file.
